The Substitute Healer (BL)-Chapter 18: “What? You really didn’t know?

With one of the carriages destroyed, they had no choice but to cram into a single one. However, the twins who couldn’t stand even looking at Soren immediately kicked him out and told him to ride a horse instead.

Unfortunately for them, Soren didn’t know how to ride. And when Cael casually insisted that Soren stay inside with them, the twins ended up kicking themselves out, grumbling as they mounted the horses instead while Alaric remained in the carriage, seated silently across from Soren like a frost statue.

"Well then," Cael said, sliding in beside Soren, "let me have your shoulder. I’m a bit dizzy, you know. And you did agree back there, didn’t you?"

He attempted to sound cute but the cunning glint in his eyes betrayed him.

"Alright, Your Highness. You can lean on me as long as you need," Soren replied calmly. "But only on one condition."

Cael raised a brow, smirking. "Pffft! Haha, fine. What condition?" Without hesitation, he eased his head onto Soren’s shoulder, making himself comfortable.

"Let me heal your wound, Your Highness. I saw it earlier, but I didn’t know when to approach since you were busy dealing with the beasts."

"Haha, alright. Heal me then."

"Then... excuse me. I’ll begin now."

Soren lifted his right hand, hovering his palm just above Cael’s chest just close enough for warmth, but not touching.

At first, Cael felt nothing but the sting of the fading injury. But as Soren’s soft healing glow spread through him, the pain drained away followed by an unexpected, almost intoxicating lightness. His thoughts cleared, his breathing eased and his body felt weightless.

Cael’s eyes widened for a split second just a flicker of shock, but enough for Alaric to notice from across the carriage. Soren, focused on healing, felt none of their reactions but the atmosphere inside the moving carriage had shifted.

Feeling the shift in his body, Cael couldn’t stop the smirk tugging at his lips. He then glanced at Alaric deliberately, as if flaunting the effect of Soren’s healing, just as Soren pulled his hand away from Cael’s chest.

"How do you feel, Your Highness?" Soren asked softly, turning to him. Their faces were much closer than he expected with Cael still leaning on his shoulder.

"I feel quite alright," Cael admitted, still smirking. "Wow. I didn’t know this is how your healing feels, Soren. Even as a commoner, your ability is impressive. Strange that the temple hasn’t dragged you off and chained you in their sanctuary yet."

The words carried a mocking tone but Soren, immune to such things, simply brushed it off.

"I’m flattered, Your Highness..." he replied. Then his gaze shifted toward Alaric.

"I don’t need your healing," Alaric snapped immediately. "So, stop looking at me."

Soren shut his mouth obediently, offering no retort and no expression, just silent acceptance. Cael , on the other hand chuckled under his breath.

"Goodness, Duke, don’t be so harsh on him," Cael teased. "He’s just worried about you. And since you’re paying him so well, why not take advantage of his ability? Just a little touch and those bruises will disappear. Come on."

He stayed leaned against Soren’s shoulder, though inwardly he felt a flicker of disgust at allowing a commoner’s skin so close. Still, he maintained the act because his tactic mattered more than his pride at the moment.

Also, what bothered him wasn’t Soren’s touch but Soren’s reaction.

Most people stiffened under the young prince’s slightest contact that some even trembled while others nearly groveled just to grab his attention. Yet Soren... didn’t flinch, didn’t tremble and didn’t even react at all.

He was a commoner, yet his composure surpassed that of many nobles.

Calm, rational and emotionless.

An unreadable wall that even Cael couldn’t see through.

And that, more than anything intrigued him.

It also frustrated him at the same time.

And quietly, it made him angry.

Time passed, and as their journey continued in tense silence, the carriage finally slowed because they had reached their destination, a stretch of plain land deep along the border, the very place where their previous healer had died.

The moment they stepped outside, the atmosphere shifted.

The twins, who usually bickered nonstop, immediately straightened their posture and wiped their expressions clean. For the first time in a while, they carried themselves like proper members of House Davenmore. Alaric, composed as always, surveyed the surroundings with sharp, calculating eyes.

The land was stark and cold. Snow blanketed everything along the ground, trees and the fallen branches turning the entire perimeter into a quiet, pale battlefield. Frozen breath hung in the air with every exhale.

Nothing moved.

Nothing made a sound.

Cael, too, slipped into a serious façade and there’s not even the hint of a smile touched his lips now.

Meanwhile, Soren, who had no idea why the mood had suddenly shifted, simply stepped aside. He kept his distance from the nobles and walked closer to the entourage of knights, unsure of what he was supposed to do but aware enough not to get in anyone’s way.

Cael, Alaric, and the twins now stepped forward in unison, forming a solemn line with their backs turned toward Soren. The snow muted every sound as they lowered their swords, the tips sinking into the frosted ground. One by one, they released the hilts letting the blades stand on their own, like silent sentinels marking a memory they refused to forget.

For a long moment, none of them moved. Not even their breaths disturbed the still air.

Eventually, two knights approached quietly, each carrying a bouquet of ice-blue hydrangeas. They handed the flowers to the four nobles, then retreated several steps back, giving them space. Cael held his bouquet with a rare gravity on his face while Alaric’s expression remained unreadably cold, yet even he seemed frozen by something heavier than the weather. The twins, usually bickering nonstop, stood completely still with each lost in their own world as they stared into the snow-covered expanse where their healer had died.

Soren lingered a short distance behind them, uncertain and out of place.

’Ice-blue hydrangeas... Elias mentioned them before, didn’t he?’ he thought while watching the nobles. ’What was it again? Right... they’re for deaths that hurt too much to talk about. Sudden. Full of things left unsaid.’

His gaze then drifted across the white landscape, trying to imagine what kind of person had earned such a farewell. ’I wonder who it could be...’

Just then, someone nudged him lightly at the side. Soren blinked and turned, meeting the eyes of a knight he didn’t recognize.

The man smirked faintly.

"Hey, commoner. You look like you’re dying to know why we came all the way out here, right?"

Soren didn’t answer but merely stared at the stranger while the knight smirked down at him as if expecting a reaction. But Soren couldn’t bring himself to care as his mind felt too distant for petty provocation.

"Hmph. Not talkative, are you?" the knight drawled, clearly amused by Soren’s silence. "Fine, I’ll spell it out. The reason we’re here is because someone close to them died on this very spot."

He leaned closer, lowering his voice as if sharing some juicy secret.

"He was the healer we all depended on that even you can’t compare. The two of you have similar abilities, sure... if you ignore the part where you’re from the slums." He chuckled and tilted his head mockingly. "What? You really didn’t know? Figures. They probably didn’t bother telling you because you’re... well, unimportant."

The knight straightened, his smirk widening.

"You’re just a substitute, commoner. A disposable healer they brought along because they needed someone to fill the void. Though, looking at how cold they’ve been treating you, we’re not even surprised."

Hearing those words, Soren felt something faint twist inside his chest like a dull throb, small but unfamiliar.

’A substitute, huh? Does it bother me... or does it not?’

He then looks through the emotion slowly, as if examining a foreign object in his hands.

’I can’t tell. People, whether commoners or nobles have always treated me like nothing that for me, it became the norm. It’s normal and it’s expected. So, why would this be any different? I have no desire to stay by their side anyway. I don’t intend to be their healer forever. Yes... that’s all.’

While Soren quietly organized his thoughts, the four nobles in front of him finished their silent ritual. They pulled their blades from the earth and slid them back into their scabbards with deliberate grace.

Soren finally spoke. "Well, thank you for telling me."

The stranger blinked then his smirk faltered with confusion crossing his face as if Soren had just answered in the wrong script. "W–what? Why are you thanking me? You should be mad. I literally called you a substitute. Why aren’t you arguing with me?"

Soren tilted his head slightly. "Oh? Should I be mad like you say? I don’t understand why I should be."

The stranger gaped, mouth opening to lash out again but another knight grabbed his arm with a groan.

"Here you go again, picking fights with people for no reason." He pulled the man back and offered Soren an apologetic smile. "Sorry about him. He’s... ah... a little agitated because of the cold. Really sorry."

"It’s not a big deal," Soren replied calmly. "Don’t worry, sir."

"W–what? Who said it’s because of the cold!?" the offended knight barked back only to get shushed again by his companions.

Just when they thought the silent went smoothly, another pack of beasts appeared again.